Chapter 2: Drawing Boundaries

But I’m not someone who swallows her anger.

My mother always said, “Priya, never let anyone walk over you—speak up, beta.” So that’s what I did.

I am Priya, and when I’m upset, I don’t bother hiding it. My mother’s words echoed in my mind—don’t let anyone walk over you—but for a second, I wondered if I was overreacting. Then I saw the way Sneha gripped her bag, and my anger won.

“Get out.”

I told her coldly, showing no mercy.

She was stunned, clearly not expecting me to embarrass her the first time we met.

Her eyes widened, lips parting as if to protest, but no words came out. She fumbled for the door handle, nearly dropping her phone in her hurry. Maybe my tone was too sharp, but Sneha looked lost for a moment. She clutched her bag tighter, her eyes darting between me and Arjun, hoping someone would rescue her from this awkwardness.

"S-sorry, Ma’am."

Her voice trembled, and she dejectedly moved to the back seat. Her movements were stiff, her smile gone. She reminded me of a student caught cheating in an exam—guilty, embarrassed, and unsure where to look.

Arjun finished his call and looked over at us, realising I was angry.

He didn’t say anything, just gave me that look—a mixture of exasperation and indulgence, as if he’d already anticipated this scene. The kind of look a husband gives when his wife is both right and difficult.

He leaned over and buckled my seatbelt for me. The scent of his cologne mingled with the car’s air freshener, making the space feel even more claustrophobic.

Noticing the seat had been adjusted, I impatiently moved it back myself.

After all this, I was furious.

“So annoying. Who does she think she is, adjusting my passenger seat?”

The atmosphere in the car turned icy. The only sound was the click-click of my bangles as I crossed my arms. The girl in the back was so scared she didn’t dare make a sound. Even the honking of the rickshaw outside seemed softer in comparison.

Arjun frowned slightly, his tone calm as he suggested, “If you’re in a bad mood, let’s just go home.”

His suggestion hung in the air. For all his business ruthlessness, he was never one for public arguments. The car felt like a pressure cooker about to burst.

In the rearview mirror, Sneha was silently wiping her tears.

I was even more irritated.

“Sneha, right? I’m not in the mood anymore. You can take an auto home. Arjun and I are going back.”

Her face turned pale. She looked pleadingly at Arjun, but he had no intention of helping her. There was an awkward silence, the kind that makes you want to shrink into the car seat and disappear.

She got out of the car in despair.